The Heat
by RashelleAndJag
Summary: This is an AU where being a werewolf means something entirely different, and Pleasantville doesn't exist. Slash.
1. Warnings

            This fic contains spoilers for Big Wolf On Campus, (it's a fanfiction, duh) and strong language (translation: people swear) and violence, as well as SLASH!!!

            This is also a Alternate Universe piece, I'm afraid. So really, you have to search for those spoilers like crazy. In general, this is a piece where being a werewolf means very different things, and Pleasantville doesn't exist, and Merton comes from a Sunny California background. No really, I'm not lying to you. 

            Also, I am using the town of Hawthorne, Nevada to base my little story in. Everything I know about it comes from one sparse website. Any inaccuracies within are truly my fault. 

            Once again, I'll repeat, my coauthor Jag wasn't a part of this piece. The slash within is the product of my dementia alone. ****

            If this is not your cup of tea, or if you are offended by the idea of two young persons of the same sex involved in a caring relationship, well, move on then, click the little button pointing to the left and read no further. 

            If you are not scared away, and you want to keep on reading. . . Well, go on, nothing's stopping you.  


	2. Prologue

**Prologue:**

            Tommy was bone tired. He sat slumped in his desk, as the teacher put in a movie and left the room. Normally this would be an excuse to fool around, goof off, and forget about the stupid French revolution. Bad people did bad things, and people died and that was the whole story. It wasn't Tommy's idea of a story. Two different classes of people who couldn't get along with each other. And sorrow, and pain, and no happy ending. 

And truth be told, Tommy didn't want to think about it. People were people but in the end, there had to be something better right? So far his report on the Scarlet Pimpernel was the only thing that was saving his grade. His head hit his textbook with a resounding thump, but Tommy didn't even feel it. 

This was the first time he had even really understood the expression bone-tired. It was the third night of the full moon, so he hadn't slept in days, football camp was still running, and his on again, off again girlfriend, had announced that they were off again. For good this time. 

            Tommy didn't really mourn the loss of that relationship, the whole relationship had existed because she was the only available female werewolf in Hawthorne, which was a stupid reason to have a relationship and really disappointment was only to be expected.

            Of course, he hadn't really expected Lori to go running into the arms of his number one competition, Chuck. He had kinda hoped that Lori wouldn't fall for that wannabe alpha poser. Chuck was a step above Gil, but the summer meet was in less than a month. Surely Lori could have waited? 

            But that was really just silly. Because he could understand. 

            He knew what the Heat felt like. He felt it too; even Lori's presence had done little more than take the edge off of it. His blood burned, and he _wanted_. He _wanted_ more and more every day.  

            His parents looked at him, and he could see the worry in their eyes. The nights he couldn't sleep before succumbing to the wolf, the fact he was always ravenous, out ate everybody, even his brother Dean, at every meal. He wouldn't eat normal things like ketchup, or salad, or cereal anymore, chocolate made him very sick. He knew he was growing too fast, he was too strong, and the Heat was too powerful.  

            The summer meet was in less than a month, and there was a hole within him that was slowly swallowing him alive. 

            "I said, Class dismissed, Mr Dawkins." Ms. Carroll's tone was harsh, but her eyes held something like worry. It was getting to be a very familiar expression. "Are you getting enough sleep at night?" 

            Tommy waved it off. "Sure, but I'm afraid the morning and after school football practices are killing me. Don't worry, Ms. Carroll, you're my favourite teacher, and I won't fall asleep in your class again. The movie just put me out, you know?"  

            "Perhaps, you shouldn't schedule yourself too thin, Tommy; you look like you could use a good night's sleep." 

            "And I'll get one, after football practice tonight, I promise." 


	3. Chapter One

**Chapter One: **

            "Merton Dingle?" The voice rang out in the hall of the Social Service building. 

            A sullen teenager sat in the deserted hallway. A black Tea Party pullover, faded black cargo pants, and a head full of rebellious black-blue spikes. 

            "Merton Dingle." She kept her voice soft. "My name's Violet and I'm going to be your caseworker from now on." 

            "Finally scared the last one away, did I?" Merton looked up, his face molded into an expression Violet knew only too well. This was a good kid. There was none of the edge she found in so many young boys. Violet prided herself on being an excellent judge of character. In the end, she found, it all came down to the eyes. There was a surprising openness to them, one that was usually mostly gone in the boys she dealt with. 

            "He had many responsibilities, Merton, his caseload was enormous." 

            "Don't you ever get tired of that excuse?" His eyes were piercing blue, the stark honesty in them overwhelming, and Violet couldn't help herself, she twitched. 

            "I've managed to find another foster home that is willing to overlook your record, Mr. Dingle." 

            "Congratulations. Where? New York? Canada?" His hands traced the anarchy symbols that decorated his pants. Meticulously drawn. Perfect geometric circles. Red fabric paint. Violet couldn't help smiling inwardly. This was a boy determined to be a rebel, with red fabric paint on his Wal-Mart specials. He probably had taken a compass to them.  

            "Actually, Nevada."

            "You're kidding me, right? Who the hell is going to let me across the state lines of sunny California?" 

            "I thought you'd be happy to escape juvenile hall, Merton." An emotion flashed across his face too fast for her to read, and she instinctively felt a pain. Low blow, Violet, low blow. 

            "Did you come up with that on your own, or did someone help?" 

            "You'll be staying in a foster home that I have the utmost respect for, Mr. Dingle, and an excellent track record.  Needless to say, there will be certain expectations for you behaviour." 

            "I know the drill." His voice was flat.

            Her line was supposed to be 'if you knew the drill, we wouldn't be having this conversation', but somehow, she just let it sit.

            He lost it. He had lost it. But thankfully, football uniforms covered everything. The pass he had thrown though, that was going to be a little harder to explain. In the eyes of the coach it was a miracle, but impossible for a high school student. Even the famous Tommy Dawkins. 

            Chuck had smirked at him. He knew the truth.

            Tommy snarled, deep, low, and rasping. 

            And Tommy barely stopped himself from going over there and tearing out his throat. He could hear the blood pulsing, Chuck's heart increasing in tempo as he felt the undercurrents of the air. Tommy walked away, barely made it into the change room, and Chuck waited for Tommy to finish and leave. 

            He's smarter than I thought, Tommy shook his head. He was hungry. Starving. It would be so easy to just drop everything he owned into his car, and take off into the grasslands. Hunt something. Kill something. Eat something. 

            He walked across the parking lot. Ignoring the strange looks that everyone was throwing his direction. The red car, Dawkins, look for the red car. 

            He forced himself to think about his mom's fried chicken. The crisp skin, the juice that ran to his chin when he bit into it. He found his keys and slid into the seat. The car started easily, and Tommy took several deep breaths before driving himself home. 

            The Dawkin's residence was huge. It had been in the family several generations. It had been established by one of Tommy's ancestors after a long flight south. At one point there had been several generations living there. Tommy punched the key code on the gate, and drove through. 

            It still smelt like it. On the air and ground, there were the ghosts of hundreds of lycanthropes. They had lived here, worked here, played here; the place was littered with a hundred voiceless snarls, snaps, croons, and yips. Children had grown and had children, right here. 

            Only, werewolves were an endangered species now, especially the Dawkin's pack. There was less space in the world now, less food. And the cities – polluted the blood of werewolves. The constant noise, and constraints, and hell, maybe even the toxic chemicals, wore on them. Werewolves went feral, separated themselves from the pack, and died lonesome deaths. Even those who came back were never the same. They couldn't have cubs. And alphas, their packs growing ever smaller, became weaker. 

            Maybe, someday, Dawkins Mansion would be full again, but for now, it was just depressing.   


	4. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two: **

Merton couldn't help feeling something as he rode next to Miss Violet. The scenery was beautiful, dramatic. Shrubs filled everything. The scenery should have looked empty after lush languid California, but somehow it was strangely freeing.

            Violet had been blathering for close to twenty minutes but Merton wasn't paying attention. Maybe this time. Maybe this time, people wouldn't get all caught up on appearances and . . . Merton knew it wasn't the appearance that scared most people off. Sure, pale white skin was hardly the norm in Sunny California, and the hair was unusual. It was the person underneath that drove them off.  

            The outside was a protective coating for the little boy who just wanted his daddy to love him. Approximately ninety-six hours of counselling had taught him this. He was symbolically separating himself from the bronzed blonde population of California by creating a personae that was physically opposite. 

            Merton thought that was an explanation liberally dosed in crap. So what if he was a natural blond? He looked much better in black. It suited his face better and brought out his eyes. 

            The next three hundred and forty six hours of therapy were just a study in how to jerk people around.  

            Merton was getting rather sick of it all. 

            The town was scarily small. 

            About four point six minutes from the point they had entered the town, Violet pulled the car into a typical suburban bungalow. Merton wondered briefly if there would be two point three kids. 

            He had a room. Not a big room. Merton suspected it was once an office. Mr and Mrs Baxter were unbelievably nice. Too good to be true, Merton suspected. He put his single black suitcase under the bed. Blue bed. Blue walls. An teeny little desk painted green of all colours. . . 

            "This is my daughter, Lori – "

            Merton was snapped back into reality. She was beautiful. Her hair was cut short, a soft dirty blonde that framed soft hazel eyes. Instinctively, he backed up from her. More than her looks, it was her presence. Danger. There was an aura of violence surrounding her. Merton immediately pegged her as someone who could kick his ass, and pinned under her contemptuous stare, he knew she'd do it with pleasure.    

            "Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Violet beamed, and the parents released a breath Merton had been unaware they were holding. 

            "Yeah, likewise." Lori dismissed him as soon as she was sure of his submission. "Mom, could I borrow the car?" 

            "Sure, sweetheart."

            Merton watched in disgust as Lori was kissed, handed car keys, and released from the room. 

            "School starts early tomorrow, Merton, perhaps you'd like to get yourself set up in your room and turn in for an early start?" 

            Merton looked at his watch, it was barely eight o'clock. It would take him all of thirty seconds to unpack and hang his posters. "Yeah, sure."

            Lori was careful to drive out of her parent's hearing range before she parked the car and ditched it. Chuck was waiting for her as she loped easily up to meet him. "So? What about the new guy?" A surge of jealousy and aggression discoloured his brown eyes. They gleamed tawny yellow. 

            "Nothing. My parents had hopes based on his parentage and records, but it's obvious he's not one of us." 

            "Good." Chuck growled as he clutched Lori to him in a firm embrace. "I have enough problems dealing with Darling Dawkins. I can't believe he's going to be an alpha. I will not submit to him." 

            "Don't get your hopes up." Lori laughed. "Dawkins is pretty strong. Powerful. There will be many of us flocking to join with him, many more flocking to join their children to him. You may have to swallow your pride if you want to have any sort of position in Hawthorne." 

            "Yeah, well, the Heat is going to burn him up. Isn't that what you told me?" 

            "Yeah," Lori's eyes gleamed golden themselves. "I've never felt anything like it. I should have been a relief to him, and I should have sated him, but it was like I was nothing but a sip of cool water." 

            "You sate me." Chuck's voice was rich in timbre as he found her lips with his.  


	5. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three:          **

Merton was lost, hopelessly lost. Lori was supposed to have shown him to his first class, but she had entered the surge of students, and disappeared. 

His paper told him he was supposed to be at Rm. 115, but the rooms around here were 3, 2, and 4. Someone caught him across the back and shoved him into a locker. 

"Well, hey, there, what do we have here?" The figure was huge, and did not relax his grip on the back of his neck. 

            "Fresh meat." A twin figure appeared beside the first, and Merton wondered vaguely if he had hit the locker hard enough to see double. 

            "Well, then he should know who's in charge around here." His head hit the locker again, and the hand raised him up, about two inches into the air. 

             "Who would that be?"A new voice spoke, out of Merton's line of sight. 

            Merton found himself on the floor. 

            "I can see I didn't make myself clear enough, Travis. This school is mine. You leave Gil alone, and you leave the freshmen girls alone, and you leave the new kid alone." 

            "Sure, whatever, Dawkins." The twin mountains lumbered out of sight. 

            Merton looked up into the eyes of his saviour. Far up. He was tall, lean, and broad shouldered. Adonis. Wavy brown hair, and deep brown eyes. 

            "Are you alright?"

            "I'm fine." Merton picked himself up, and dusted himself off, resentful of this white knight who had come charging to his rescue. "I'm peachy." 

            "Don't take it so hard." Dawkins smiled. Oh god, it was almost blinding. White teeth, Merton had never seen such white teeth. "Tim and Travis do this a lot. I think all that weight goes straight to their brain."  

            "Yeah, well, whatever." Merton looked around for the piece of paper that had escaped his grasp. 

            Dawkins bent over. Ohgodohgodohgod. Merton thought he might just die right here and now. "Is this yours?" 

            "Wha – " 

            "Is this what you're looking for?" He held out a wrinkled white paper. 

            "Yes," and then grudgingly, "Thanks." 

            "No problem. It looks like you've got History first. It's just down this hallway and to the left. You can't miss it." 

            And Dawkins was gone, the sea of students parting for him as completely as if he were Moses. 

Lori was in his class. Which pissed Merton off, but was fairly effective at reminding him of his place in the grand scheme of things. 

"Hey, Lori." 

"Hi, Tommy." Her eyes were wary, the subtle shift in her body language an obvious sign to him. He was no longer her chosen. He was an unwelcome challenger, and she would be just as happy to remind him of his place as Chuck would be. 

"The new guy. What's the story?" Casual, softly, it could have been covered over with the sound of students changing classes, and opening lockers. Except, he knew that it wouldn't be. 

She relaxed. "My parents were hoping he would be one of us. The lines and times were about right. But it's obvious he's not. We'll have him out of here as soon as the paperwork goes through."

"Yeah," Tommy walked back in his memory. There was something off about that boy. Some trace of something that nagged at him. He had been deep in the Heat, Tim and Travis had been his favourite targets as of late. They were big enough to take it, and the fact that neither of them were werewolves made it easy. They were really just bullies and easy enough to put into their place. Like the coach would put it, a relaxation exercise. 

But the Heat had somehow faded as he looked into those deep blue eyes. Senses that had been loose, lost among the circus that passed itself off as a high school, had abruptly pulled back and focused themselves. He had felt normal, for the first time. . . He forgot how long it had been.  

"Tommy!" The growl was low. 

He growled back, he couldn't help it. "Never mind. Sorry, I bothered you." 


End file.
